


Şi dacă...

by Hannibalsimago, Nonexistenz



Category: Adam (2009), Charlie Countryman (2013), Hannibal Extended Universe - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst and Feels, Art for Fic, Blood and Violence, Come on. It's Nigel. You know there will be foul language., Cover Art, Digital Art, Drinking, ForBothOfUs, Illness (chronic soulmate separation), M/M, Nigel gets a good look, Shower Sex, Spacedogs, Swearing, Threats of Violence, Well I'm not even sure how to tag the sex, but there will be sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-12
Updated: 2017-08-12
Packaged: 2018-12-14 13:00:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11783676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hannibalsimago/pseuds/Hannibalsimago, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nonexistenz/pseuds/Nonexistenz
Summary: Soulmates. The very idea is laughable, a fairy tale for children.Nigel doesn't believe in it. And Adam doesn't either.Until the visions start...Nonexistenz asked me to write a Spacedogs Soulmate AU.Soulmates see each other but only on the periphery of their vision. As if you see something out of the corner of your eye, but when you turn to face it -it's gone.Denial of the bond and distance cause illness for both.  As the soulmates get closer in proximity, visions become frequent, encompass more information.The visions are nearly always through the other soulmates eyes. What they see at the time of vision is what the receiving soulmate sees. Visions are unpredictable, can't be controlled.





	1. It is to make me dream again

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KatherineKrawl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatherineKrawl/gifts), [@messy-scandinoodle](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=%40messy-scandinoodle).



> [](http://imgur.com/MjSyofk)   
> 

Nigel hated assholes.

‘ _Especially shit-for-brains assholes who thought they could escape the inevitable consequences of their pig-headed, no, that was too kind. Back that up._

_Too-fucking-stupid-if-they-had-to-think-to-breathe-they-would-be-dead-within-seconds assholes._

_Yes, that was better,_ ’ thought Nigel smiling ferally, teeth bared. The smile never reached his hazel eyes.

And this particular walking piece of shit had done something so unforgivable that he was going to be missing multiple body parts, once Nigel caught up with him. The nightclub expansion deal with the Russians was severely compromised because of the soon-to-be-legless shit. Nigel’s smile got wider, almost a rictus.

And because, just for making Nigel feel this way, he was going to take everything else out on him because the one who had really hurt him, he couldn’t touch, not ever.

Gabi, darling fucking Gabi, with the American cocksucker, Nigel won’t even **_think_** his name.

The sound of the office door opening interrupted Nigel’s murderous chain of thoughts. Darko peered around the door frame and seeing a flung whiskey glass arching his way, ducked back into the hallway, hearing it smash against the door frame.

“May I come in, you son-of-a-bitch?” Darko called out once there was silence and no more projectiles forthcoming.

Stepping into the office, he surveyed the damage. ‘ _All things considering, it wasn’t too bad,_ ’ he thought.

“Nigel, you really look like shit. Are you even sleeping? And when did you actually eat something that even resembles food?” worried Darko.

“Fuck off!” Nigel responded a bit more sharply than he intended. He had hoped to mask how awful he was feeling. His nerves were painful, like someone had been unraveling them, pulling and stretching them over nails.

‘ _God, my head feels like it’s going to split open_ ,’ he thought as he reached for the nearly empty aspirin bottle and gagged as he caught a scent of his fetid sweat. ‘ _I don’t know what’s going on,_ ” he thought.

He muttered irritably, “It’s just the flu.”

Darko had his suspicions but wisely didn’t say anything. “You should go home Nigel. Get some sleep.”

“Do we know where shit-for-brains is?” snarled Nigel.

“Sighted in Germany, then Stockholm. Probably heading to New Jersey or New York. Need to see who he runs to when we flush him out. I’ve got a crew waiting,”

“Fuck that! This is personal,” Nigel muttered and swayed as he stood up, suddenly vertiginous.

Darko reached out and grabbed his arm, “Let’s get you home. Maiming can wait, it can always wait.”

^^^^^^^^^^

Adam watches Beth walk off, out of his life.

His primary emotion?

Relief, truth be told.

The past six months had been disruptive to his routine, not to say personally confusing and he is sagging with relief to be back to his comfortable, familiar routines.

He catches something out of the corner of his eye: it’s incongruous, a glint on an empty cocktail glass grasped in a muscular, yet elegant hand. Adam flinches as the glass is tossed casually upwards, sunlight dancing on it, only to have it return to the hand and with one violent motion, it becomes a projectile. It’s gone as quickly as it came. Adam looks around quickly wondering why he did not hear anything break as the glass flew through the air.

He blinks and turning in a circle, looks all around, moving his head as if he was a baby bird in a nest looking for his parents. Seeing nothing, no one. No elegant, muscular, bare arms to be seen anywhere. And why would they? He’s outside shivering in a jacket, trying to process what he saw, attempting to make sense of it rationally. No one would be tossing - no - throwing - aiming cocktail glasses at anyone, especially in this weather. He knew it had happened, felt the murderous intent behind it. Why did it make his insides tremble and clench in that way?

Pushing all this aside, Adam turned to go back in his apartment. It was almost time for dinner and he had a routine to follow.

^^^^^^^^^^^^

Darko got Nigel home, definitely worse for wear. Nigel hardly swore at all and let Darko manhandle him without comment, into and out of the car, then alarmingly, up the stairs into his apartment.

Concerned for him, Darko asked, “How long have you had the headaches? The nausea? The sweating though, that’s recent.”

Nigel groaned and rolled over in the bed, shivering, struck with a bout of the dry heaves.

“That’s it, Nigel. I’m not leaving you tonight. Not when you are like this,”

“F...fuck...off,” was the whispered response.

“That’s it! If you are too sick to swear with any volume, I’m getting a doctor.”

Nigel didn’t even respond, already asleep.

Darko made the call, despite knowing what the answer would be.

In the morning, Nigel awoke, blinked, rolled over and wished he hadn’t, blaming how he felt on a rare hangover. Hearing movement behind him, he turned quickly and the migraine and nausea were on him like a tiger on a wild boar.

“Take it easy, you asshole,” grumbled Darko as he moved around the bed to open the window for some fresh air, making sure to keep the curtain drawn against the morning light.  
“Doc’s here.”

Nigel sat up at this, groaning as he moved up the bed. He saw the kitchen chair placed next to the bedside table and glared at Darko as the doctor moved into view.

“May I?” As the physician gestured to the chair, placing his medical bag on the floor and fishing out a stethoscope, a blood pressure cuff, tongue depressor and a penlight. “Let’s get your vitals out of the way so we can proceed.” Grateful for his economy, Nigel grudgingly consented to the exam.

True to his word, the physical was quickly over, tools of the trade packed away again and the real questions started.

“It would be best if you did not prevaricate. How long has this been going on?”

“A while.”

“Mr. …?”

“Just Nigel.”

“But,...”

“Just fucking Nigel. Don’t make me say it a third time.”

“Very well. How long have you had the migraines...with aura, correct? Nausea? Vertigo? Photophobia? Phonophobia?”

Nigel mumbled a response.

“Again, please. For my old ears.”

Nigel cleared his throat, “Six months.”

Darko gasped and swore at the response.

Nigel snarled, lunging, only to be brought up short by the doctor’s hand on his upper arm, holding him back.

“And any visuals?” The question shook Nigel as if he had been stabbed by a frozen blade, icy in his guts, roiling and agonizing.

The response vomited out by the man in the bed, “AW SHIT! FUCK!!! For Fuck’s….- FUCK!! FUCK!! Fuckity Fuck FUCK!”

Darko bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing although tears did come to his eyes. He especially liked the last sequence. Nigel did have a wonderful way with words.

“Is he always this eloquent?”

“This is nothing.”

Nigel was ashen, gasping, head in his hands, moans and growls coming from his throat.

The doctor shuddered almost imperceptibly and thought ‘ _If this is what he is like incapacitated, I would hate to see…’_ and said instead “Let me give you an injection for the pain. And I need to speak to you of this.”

Once the injection was administered, Nigel sank back against the headboard, his face relaxing for the first time that morning.

“Seriously, any peripheral visuals?”

A softly whispered, “No.”

“Then you must be far enough away just now. But you know this can’t go on. Whomever it is, is suffering as much as you are. But you know that.”

“I don’t believe in this shit. It’s a fairy tale.”

The physician sighs, “It’s not a fairy tale. It has real physical consequences. Both soulmates-,”

Nigel growls and gnashes his fangs at this.

“Nonetheless, yes, soulmates. Both of you are suffering. You know it can take some time to happen, especially if you’ve been resisting it or if great distances are involved. Were you involved with someone else? To compensate?”

Nigel didn’t say anything but his face spoke volumes.

Darko spoke up, “If Nigel’s soulmate was anywhere in Europe, he would know by now.”

The physician nodded. “The migraines and nausea will subside once the peripherals kick in. Until then, speed is of the essence. Or I will see you in the hospital before a week has passed. Try to get rest and at the very least, stay hydrated. The injection I gave you will last for perhaps twenty-four hours.” He wrote something on a pad, tore off a page and placed it on the bedside table.

“This prescription for zolmitriptan should get you through the week. If you are still here in seven days, I expect your associate here to call me. I’ll see myself out.”

As the door closed to the apartment, Darko moved from where he had been standing and sat in the vacant chair thinking, “That went better than expected.”

Nigel’s voice broke the silence, “I hate you, Darko.”

“Yes, I know Nigel. I know just how much you do,” as Nigel snuggled back down into the bed, already half asleep. Darko tucked the prescription into his shirt pocket and retrieved his phone. He had travel arrangements to make for a small group of associates. Best to get busy.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Adam awoke with a raging headache and upset stomach. He tried to get up, felt the room spin, lost his balance, and clutched the bedcovers on the way down as he doubled over with a wicked set of dry heaves. In his periphery, as he looked down, he saw the same arms clutching around a muscular torso sprinkled with some nasty scars and topped with a thick patch of greying chest hair. As soon as Adam registered this, felt the muscles moving under his, no, not his hands, it was gone, leaving him as bewildered as before. “What was going on?” Adam whimpered.

^^^^^^^^^^

Days later, after making all the arrangements, Darko finally settled in business class. Nigel was in the row ahead of him, next to the window. The other two, Nigel nicknamed them, Mutt and Jeff, were in the aisle across from Darko. Nine hours before they could sniff out Mr. Shit-for-brains. No point in giving him a name when he was going to be dead in about twelve hours, maybe sixteen if he really pissed off Nigel. Darko fell asleep with that comforting thought uppermost.

Nigel had run out of his prescription meds just the day before but felt better once the plane was airborne. He asked for a blanket, chilly in the stale, recirculated air of the cabin. Apparently, he had made an impression on the cabin attendant as he got a pillow along with the blanket in return for his grin. Tucking the pillow next to the window and curling his arms up under the blanket, Nigel dozed.

He was standing under a spray of warm water, soapy hands sliding over his bare unmarked torso… Nigel startled awake, aware of movement in his peripheral vision. He could see a younger body, slim, muscled, slick with soap suds, watched as one arm hugged himself tight across his chest while the other slipped down to take his pink, cut, erect cock in hand and _oh! - just like that._ It took all of Nigel’s self control not to groan at the sensation. Feeling more like a participant, than a voyeur, Nigel flushed and felt his cock twitch. He blinked and was back in the aircraft cabin, breath shuddering as he fought for control.

“ _Soulmates, heh? Well, at least he had a pretty cock. Wonder what else he has to go with it?”_ the thought made Nigel chuckle. “ _This trip could be even more interesting,_ ” was the last thought he had as he fell asleep.


	2. And if the stars shine on the pond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All Nigel wants is a good bloodletting and some smokes. That's not too much? Oh, and take away the god-forsaken visions.
> 
> All Adam wants is to be left alone. 
> 
> Darko wants them all to go to hell. 
> 
> Will ANYONE get what they want?
> 
>  
> 
> Nonexistenz asked me to write a Spacedogs Soulmate AU.
> 
> Soulmates see each other but only on the periphery of their vision. As if you see something out of the corner of your eye, but when you turn to face it -it's gone.
> 
> Denial of the bond and distance cause illness for both. As the soulmates get closer in proximity, visions become frequent, encompass more information.
> 
> The visions are nearly always through the other soulmates eyes. What they see at the time of vision is what the receiving soulmate sees. Visions are unpredictable, can't be controlled.

Harlan found Adam on his favorite bench. The young man was rubbing his hands along the sides of his legs from mid thigh to his knee and back again, over and over. 

 

“What’s up Adam? I can see something’s on your mind.” Harlan said as he took his customary seat. 

 

Adam frowned. “I am very concerned I might have something physically wrong with me.” His repetitive motions speeded up a little.

 

Inwardly worrying at Adam’s agitation, Harlan moved to sit down next to his friend. “I brought hot chocolate, if you would like to share a hot drink later.”

 

Adam started to hum and his upper body started to rock in tandem along with his hands. Harlan didn’t say anything, just waited while his friend calmed himself down. 

 

Adam gradually stopped rocking his torso although he still fluttered his fingers against the side of his legs. “I think there is something wrong with my eyes. I was going to do research on the internet butwasafraidthatbeingonthecomputerwouldmakesthingsworse.” The last part of the statement came out in a hurried rush.

 

“Woah! Slow down, Adam, please. I have enough trouble hearing outside as it is. When you go fast like that, it’s harder for me to understand what you are saying.” Harlan motioned to the screeching children playing nearby who were terrorizing pigeons. 

 

Adam’s eyes darted everywhere and he sighed. Overwhelmed and anxious, sometimes he didn’t always know how to begin a conversation, too many missteps. His blue eyes flickered to his Harlan’s face and then skittered away again. Adam huddled in on himself, moving his arms from his legs to giving himself a hug. He still didn’t say anything but hummed softly.

 

Gently, from Harlan, “Adam, would it be easier if I were to ask you some questions? Nothing too  difficult.”

 

Harlan watched Adam’s head bob up and down as he said this.

 

“Yes, please.”

 

“Right, do your eyes hurt?” 

 

“No.” Harlan gave a sigh of relief at that.

 

“Is your vision blurry? Spots in your vision? Anything like a big black curtain that you can’t see past?”

 

Adam answered no to all of these and Harlan grunted in response, knowing it was better to wait.  Adam hugged himself tighter, just once, and then unwound his arms from around this shoulders. 

 

“I’m seeing things, Harlan.” 

 

The penny dropped for Harlan then. He had a much better idea what was causing the issue. 

 

“Adam, when you see these things, where do you see them, in front,” Harlan gestured with his fingers in front of his own eyes. 

 

“Or is it off to the side, like this?” Again, he demonstrated with his own fingers. Adam looked avidly at the latter.

 

“It’s the second one, Harlan.”

 

“I never thought I would say this, Adam Raki. Hasn’t anyone told you about being soul mated?”

 

Adam laughed, a bright cheery sound. “Harlan, that’s all stories. There is no such thing.” 

 

“Well, Mr. I Know Everything Raki, there is such a thing. Bella and I had it. Thank you very much,” harrumphed Harlan.

 

“How long has this been going on?”

 

“I’ve been seeing things in the last three weeks or so. Some of it is frightening.”

 

Harlan reached down for the thermos. “Frightening because you didn't know why it was happening or because of what you were seeing?” 

 

He poured out some cocoa and gave the warm drink to Adam. “Here, have this. Your hands look cold.” Replacing the screw top and tightening it, Harlan placed the thermos back down by his leg. 

 

“A little of both to be honest. The first time it happened, I saw a glass being thrown at someone. I heard the glass break. Loud angry voices in an unfamiliar language. A lot of a man in pain, sweaty, clutching his abdomen. I never see his face. But I see his hands.” 

 

‘ _ Always his hands,’  _ Adam thought.

 

Adam handed the empty thermos cap back to Harlan. 

 

“So him being sick frightened you?”

 

“I can see it and  _ feel _ it, like it was me.” Adam’s fingers began to flutter. 

 

“You do know it works both ways? That it’s just as painful for him?” Adam’s face looked stunned.

 

“Do these happen every day? Multiple times in a day?”  

 

Adam shook his head violently, “NO!” 

 

“I’m sorry for upsetting you, Adam. I only asked because the frequency of the visions tells you that you are physically close-”

 

Adam bolted off of the bench, ashen, eyes wide, hands fluttering in the air like frantic birds.

 

“No! I don’t want to be close. I don’t want to meet him!”

 

“You don’t get a choice in this. Once the visions start, somehow, someway, you  _ will _ meet him.”

 

Adam snarled and hissed “I saw a gun! He was cleaning a gun!”

 

“Could he be a police officer, a security guard, a soldier?” 

 

Adam stopped pacing suddenly, shocked. “I don’t sense that.”

 

“And you could be right. There is no way to tell just now. The things you see could mean something or nothing. Adam, you have to remember, there is a reason the two of you are drawn to each other. You both have something the other needs desperately.”

 

At this, Adam bolted away like a greyhound after a rabbit, trying to put as much distance between him and Harlan as possible, as if that could make what Harlan said any less significant, as if he could forget it. 

 

Harlan sighed and watched him run off down the path, scattering pigeons as he ran. 

 

^^^^^^^

 

_ “Three fucking, bone-chilling, god-forsaken, oh-so-fucking boring weeks.  _

 

_ Mr. Shit-for-brains was good at something at last - hiding.   _

 

_ Who knew?”  _

 

He grinned at the thought, alarming Mutt and Jeff who simultaneously decided that it was better to clean their guns than to attract attention.

 

His smile was as cold and ferocious as the northern wind that whipped across the Hudson, straight down from Canada ahead of an Alberta clipper if you could believe the weatherman. 

 

The only thing that relieve the boredom was the visions, nearly every day, sometimes multiple times a day. Inconsequential snippets of someone’s life to be puzzled over and given significance if only because they were shared.

 

_ “Wonder what the poor bastard is getting from me in return?”  _ He almost laughed and the two gunmen flinched at the noise, studiously hunched over their task and tried their best to ignore the Romanian panther stalking the room.  

 

Once the plane had touched down at La Guardia, the frequency of the attacks increased exponentially, sometimes frightening in their intensity. Once they started, he was caught as a piece of driftwood in the ocean, buffeted with no refuge, exposed and vulnerable. His thoughts were interrupted by Darko’s return with their lunch and coffees. 

 

One glance at Nigel and the behavior of Mutt and Jeff told him things had escalated in the short time he was gone. “ _ Goddammit! I can’t decide whom I want Nigel to find first, Mr. Shit-for-brains or his soulmate. Something’s got to break soon. I can’t take much more of this crap. Nigel gets even more vicious when he’s like this.”  _  Darko remembered the sullen, vicious youth forging a friendship with him against all odds. And then later, with all the crap and fallout from a certain Gabi  _ fucking _ Ibanescu.  _ “I never want to see him that way ever again. _ ”

 

Darko placed the sack of sandwiches and the cardboard tray of coffees on the hotel desk, intending to inhale one of the coffees immediately, when his cell went off. Everyone in the room froze. Darko answered it and grunted in response to the flood of Romanian filling the room. Abruptly, the conversation ended and he looked at Nigel. “It’s tonight. Warehouse in Queens.” 

 

Looking out the hotel window, Darko swore savagely. The Alberta Clipper had arrived. His thoughts were almost as dark as the charcoal grey sky. “ _ Going to be cold-as-tits-in-brass-brassiere kind of weather and a fucking endless night. Spent with Nigel in a ugly mood. My life can’t get any worse.”   _

 

Darko had no idea how wrong he could be. 

 

^^^^^^^^

 

Nigel was even more on edge than he had been that afternoon. He tried to relax in the suite’s master bathroom, soaking in the tub, unfiltered cigarettes ever present, waiting until it was time to go relieve Mr. Shit-for-brains of some of his more important organs and extremities. Even that thought did not cheer him up - much. 

 

That’s when the daily vision hit him. Startled, he dropped the sponge, splashing water everywhere as he jerked to the side, dousing his cigarette and causing the entire cigarette pack to wind up in the tub, immediately useless. An extended string of Romanian obscenities floated out into the suite from behind the closed bathroom door. 

 

Nigel was panting and had tears in his eyes. He didn’t know if it was from losing his final pack of imported cigarettes or if it was from banging his knee on the porcelain tub -  **hard** . He growled, “Great, just fucking great.” He was holding it together by inches.

 

If, and when he found his soulmate, he was going to tear him a new one. And all this over a plate of chicken, broccoli and some horrid-looking-neon-yellow-noodle thing. He had caught movement in his periphery as a muscular arm carried the plate to a non-descript kitchen table, placing it down and queuing up some program on his laptop which was set across the table from the dinner setting. 

 

_ “Why couldn’t it have been another shower? At least that way he could have possibly enjoyed himself?” _ Nigel swore at the thought as he pulled the plug and reached for the bath towel. It was time to go to the evening’s entertainment anyway. 

 

^^^^^^^^^^

 

Adam had been skittish all day, jumping at shadows. He didn’t want dinner but went through the motions anyway, hoping the routine would soothe him. Just a bite or two into his meal, finally relaxing after the tension, the jitters, all day and then it hit him, making him drop his fork, huddle over the table, everything else forgotten.

 

A splash of water, a muscular outflung arm, a glimpse of the same bare chest as before, genitalia hidden by a swiftly moving leg and instant blaze of pain as the knee hit the tub. A rough, accented voice swearing loudly in some Eastern European language. Adam sat shivering in the kitchen, feeling the anger radiating off of the man, so palpable he could touch it.  

 

Once the vision had passed, his stomach still clenched, Adam closed down the laptop and scraped his plate into the garbage, no longer finding comfort anywhere in the flat. He hoped seeing the stars would make all this go away as they had nearly every evening since this madness started.  _ “What can he possibly see in me, need in me? Not to mention what I’m supposed to find in a foul-mouthed, chain-smoking street thug.” _ wondered Adam remembering what Harlan said as he went to get his winter coat, gloves and boots. 

 

The snow never stopped falling as two timelines began to converge.

 

^^^^^^^

 

The trip from Manhattan to Queens would have been uneventful were it not for the snow and a cigarette-deprived, even more pissed-off Nigel smoldering in the back seat. Nigel had everyone on edge. 

 

For Darko, one look was all it took to judge how the evening was going to go as Nigel stormed out of the bathroom, towel around his waist, hefting a sodden packet of smokes and hurling it so hard into the nearest garbage can, it toppled over spilling wet tobacco and bathwater as it hit the floor. “Jeff, get me some unfiltered. Anything will do,” grumbled Nigel as he whipped the towel from around his hips and briskly dried off. Darko noticed but didn’t comment on how well defined his ribs were, knowing it wasn’t the place or the time. 

 

Mutt headed out the door just after Jeff beat a hasty retreat, claiming to get the van ready for the evening’s excursion. Darko knew from the frequency and clarity of Nigel’s visions within the past week, things were going to escalate. “ _ Mr. Shit-for-brains won’t know what hit him. Nigel’s in a fucking piss-poor mood tonight. And that was before he lost his smokes. Please by all that’s holy, let the convenience store have Lucky Strikes.” _

 

^^^^^^^

 

Traffic was light and most people were indoors, hunkering down and waiting out the storm. “Good news for us then.” said Nigel as he watched the sidewalks fill up with snow. Four inches were on the ground already as they pulled up to the warehouse. Jeff got out and opened the warehouse door as Mutt parked on the street. He joined Jeff inside as Darko and Nigel waited in the van. Jeff came back out, moving to the back of the van and grabbing his bag and hurrying through the snow as he slipped and slid, moving back to the warehouse door. 

 

“Let’s go,” Nigel snarled, as he climbed out of the van. “I can’t wait to get reacquainted.” 

 

Fifteen minutes later, a seedy, obese, furtive man opened the door to the warehouse and slunk inside as if expecting the building to be deserted. He couldn’t be more mistaken.

 

If a Great White shark could speak that’s what Nigel sounded like, all toothy menace and deadly intent, his voice more dangerous the softer he spoke, “Ah! So nice of you to join us, Mr. Shit-for-brains. Hold his arm out boys. Are you right-handed or left? Please tell me you are ambidextrous,” as Mutt and Jeff came up behind him, surprising him and pinning his arms.  

 

They manhandled the stricken man to one of the few lit areas in the warehouse, it’s interior all chiaroscuro, the light positioned conveniently, directly over some plastic sheeting, not paying him the least bit of attention as he bleated out his answer. “Right, Nigel. R...right.” 

 

Nigel grinned, replying “You don’t refer to me by name is that clear? And you said ambidextrous - correct?” 

 

The man moaned, as Mutt pushed him to his knees while Darko went and fished out the biggest machete out of the bag, carefully handing it to Jeff. 

 

“Well, I do believe it’s Christmas. Gag him. You can proceed as you like,” as Nigel faded into the darkness.

 

Suddenly, the warehouse door banged open, the echoing noise making the Romanians jump as six menacing figures rushed toward the tableau. The Romanians found themselves outnumbered. Jeff only had time to slash Mr. Shit-for-brains throat open before all hell broke loose. Mutt made a move for the satchel but did not reach it before he was engaged by a chain-wielding adversary. Two men advanced on the machete-wielding Jeff who was trying to move away from the corpse, circling to keep both opponents in view as he fought on two fronts. 

 

Darko’s attention was scattered, torn between concentrating on just finishing breaking a man’s neck, and glancing up, looking for Nigel in the melee, finding him and realizing Nigel was incongruously motionless. “ _ Oh, FUCK, no! Not a fucking vision, not now! This will get him killed _ ,” thought Darko as he was himself immobilized while he was distracted, his arms pinned. He tried to get free from the man restraining him. It was an exercise in futility.

 

Nigel stood stock still, mouth slightly agape at the vision he saw in front of him this time as a knife-wielding man rushed at him from the left side. At the very last moment, a sense of self-preservation roused itself from his reptilian brain and he spun away from the man’s weapon.

 

It wasn’t enough. 

 

The blade connected on his left side, cutting a swath of blood from just below his armpit, down his side and crossing slightly over his abdomen. Nigel clutched his side and went down immediately, his opposite arm locked in place holding him up off the ground. He couldn’t move his legs, could hardly draw breath, fighting to stay conscious.

 

Looking up, he still saw his soulmate, not in his periphery, but right in  **front** of him. It was Adam reaching for him, lovely face stricken and mouth open in a silent scream. He could see  _ through _ Adam, as if looking through a scrim to a movie screen underneath, both parts visible at the same time.

 

“Mr. Wong sends his regards.” was the last voice he heard as a roundhouse kick knocked him prostrate to the floor. His brain tried to process the last few moments, and a thought gibbered in his head, “No, wait! This is supposed to be for Mr. Shit-for-brains, not me!” That’s when the Tongs practiced a boxing warm-up routine using his body as a punching bag. 

He never even saw Mutt and Jeff go down, right next to a cold-cocked Darko. It got even darker in the warehouse. It was a long evening indeed.

 

^^^^^^^^^^^^

Adam had just come to the corner of 112th Street and Park Lane South on his way to Forest Park. He was so pleased at the quiet and the snow, watching it drift among the huge trees in Forest Park and on the parkway, he could have whistled with glee. It was as if he was the only soul in Queens, all too rare and precious a feeling, Adam was giddy with it. 

 

He stopped abruptly, shocked by the man standing in front of him. He recognized the man’s arms and hands, but everything else was new to Adam. “ _ I would recognize those hands anywhere!”  _

 

He saw Nigel, his left side visible, while the rest of him was obscured in darkness. He was mesmerized by the shine of the knife, reflection glinting off its surface. He catalogued Nigel’s face, the long hair framing arresting hazel eyes, facial structure all planes and angles, looking right at Adam as if he could  _ see _ him. The vision wasn’t solid though, Adam could see the snow covered trees through his soulmate’s body as if it was semi-transparent.

 

Adam was so shocked his legs gave way and he stumbled in the snow, one hand reaching for Nigel and he heard a voice he didn’t recognize as his own, yell “Move! MOVE! He’s right there! MOVE!” At the last minute, he say Nigel spin away but saw the knife connect, blood droplets seemingly suspended in the air, as the older man fell to the ground. Adam screamed and clutched his left side, pain blossoming, nerves on fire, panting frantically, trying to bring his pulse under control. He saw the man reach for him and the vision winked out. 

Adam struggled to get his breath back, the pain in his side a fiery brand. He had to get home, stars forgotten, to tell Harlan. Now that he had seen him, seen his soulmate, it was a compulsion to meet him no matter what the cost. He just hoped it wasn’t in a body bag.

 

He struggled to his feet, slipping in the snow, grabbing his gloves as he rushed back to the bus stop, his stomach sick with adrenaline and fear.

[](https://imgur.com/irZCxly)


	3. It is but to remind my heart  I long for you always.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is Nigel alive?
> 
> Does Adam make it home?
> 
> If Nigel’s alive, do they finally meet?
> 
> If they do, will Nigel ever get to recreate that stunning scene he saw on the plane? 
> 
> Does Darko tell them to go get a fucking room for fuck’s sake?
> 
> Nonexistenz asked me to write a Spacedogs Soulmate AU.
> 
> Soulmates see each other but only on the periphery of their vision. As if you see something out of the corner of your eye, but when you turn to face it -it's gone.
> 
> Denial of the bond and distance cause illness for both. As the soulmates get closer in proximity, visions become frequent, encompass more information.
> 
> The visions are nearly always through the other soulmates eyes. What they see at the time of vision is what the receiving soulmate sees. Visions are unpredictable, can't be controlled.

Darko was the last of the three of them to wake. He saw Jeff cradling a blood-covered Nigel, a murderous piata. Of Mr. Shit-for-brains, nothing was seen. He wondered if someone had done them a favor of sorts.

Mutt came in through the warehouse door covered with snow. He saw Darko and ambled over to help him up, murmuring in Romanian that he had dumped the body in one spot, the head in another.

“Well, that explains Mr. Shit-for-brains,” said Darko sighing. Looking at Jeff, he said “Is he alive?”

“Yes, I don’t know how.”

Darko suspected Nigel’s soulmate had something to do with that. He barked out instructions, “Let’s get him to the safe house. I’ll stay with him until the doctor arrives and we get reinforcements. I want the two of you to clean up the hotel room, check out, ditch the van and get on the next plane to Romania. Someone set the Tongs on us and I want to know who it was.”  
  
Darko made sure there was no trace of them in the warehouse as the others carried Nigel out to the van. He covered the splashes of blood with snow as he followed the trio to the van.

Darko climbed in the back trading places with Mutt who drove them quietly and quickly to the safe house. ‘ _Thank God Nigel hadn’t lost his head entirely. He used the past three weeks to stock the safe house just in case. In spite of the whole soulmate thing, there really wasn’t much that got by Nigel. God, he better make it. He would make a fucked-up, pissed-off, shitty-ass ghost, moaning about his cigarettes and sex.‘_  Darko said a quick prayer hoping his thoughts did not come true. Best not to tempt fate under the circumstances, soulmate or no.

^^^^^^

Adam made it home in the snowstorm, more by instinct than anything. He kept replaying the scene over and over in his head, aware that something fundamental, some incremental shift in his attitude toward the man had occurred. The fact that his soulmate was in perilous straits made him less fearsome, more human and Adam remembered feeling the tiniest whiff of fear roll off of the bleeding man before the Romanian’s rock-solid control slid back in place and the connection was severed.

He shook his head as he pulled his keys out of his pocket, not conscious of walking between the bus stop and his building. ‘ _Usually It’s not safe to be so preoccupied, but there aren’t very many others out in the snow. Stil that’s how_ **he** _got hurt_ ,’ Adam pushed the thoughts away as he locked the outside door and climbed upstairs.

He managed to get his frozen fingers to work the keys in the lock, stepping inside his apartment, the heat from the interior immediately melting the snow off his boots, jeans and coat. He hung the coat up on the hook, then unlaced his boots, shucking them off, placing them on the shoe tray just for that purpose.

Hating the feeling of wet jeans, he shimmied out of them, rushing to the bathroom in just his boxers and a t-shirt, grabbing several large towels, wiping up any melted snow that dripped on the floor as he made it back to the entryway. He stripped off his wet socks, grabbing one of the towels and his jeans. He laid a large towel on the main radiator in the living room, placing his sodden socks and jeans on the towel knowing they would dry overnight. He quickly took his coat down the hallway and hung it in the shower, allowing it to drip overnight.

Feeling slightly less anxious now that he wasn’t wet and damp, he made sure the door was locked and the dead bolt in place. Using the last towel, he made his way to the bedroom for a pair of sweatpants. He stopped drying his hair long enough to slip his goose-pimpled legs into the sweatpants. He sat on the bed and finished briskly rubbing his hair.

When he finished, he knew it was sticking up in all sorts of directions but he needed to check and see if Harlan was up or not. Grabbing his laptop, he verified the website’s status bar and found it was too late for his friend to be awake. Humming sadly, he realized he was all alone. His closet door was open from earlier in the evening and he looked at his spacesuit as if it was illuminated by a spotlight, visible from where he sat on his bed and hugged himself tightly, his torso rocking back and forth.

Then, he had a thought that lit up his face briefly and stopped his movements. ‘ _I don't need that, not yet.‘_ Maybe it was realizing that his soulmate was just as scared as he was that made it somehow all manageable. At least Adam had his routines and his friend, Harlan, to help ground him. He didn’t know whom his soulmate had for a friend. Maybe that’s why he was always so angry?

As intrusive as the visions had been before, as scary and perplexing, the overriding emotion tonight for Adam was worry. It was the first time he felt an emotion stronger than the anger waft through the connection from the man and that was fear. He didn’t even know if he was still alive.

At that thought, Adam reeled back as if he had been slapped. He had forgotten. He saw his _face_. His _eyes_. From his stargazing, Adam learned to look past the obvious, past the flash and flare of the planets. Sometimes when he needed to find out something it required him to look behind the moon, beyond the meteorite, around the corona of that star, to unearth out what he really needed to know, to find a tiny piece of the puzzle.

When he saw his soulmate’s eyes tonight, there was anger. Adam was expecting to only see rage but there was something else that the anger masked. He had gotten very good at hiding it but it was like star watching. Adam had to be patient and look for clues in the spaces in between, sort of like looking in a bigger planet’s gravity field for something important. Adam didn’t know what it was yet, but it was a puzzle. Something unexpected, unanticipated.

He put the laptop back on his desk and went to finish his nighttime routine, grabbing the damp towel as he went, listening to the winter winds howling outside as it buffeted the building. He planned to speak with Harlan in the morning.

^^^^^^^^^^^

Later as Adam drifted off to sleep, in the darkness of his bedroom, the room felt bigger, emptier, colder, and he could hear _things_ scuttling off in the corners. His breathing was raspier, more uncertain and his heartbeat was erratic. Adam felt a flare of pain on inspiration.

Feeling the first waves of panic, knowing it wasn’t coming from him, Adam placed his hand on either sides of his ribs and started to perform his mindful breathing, the same as he did when he would have a panic attack. ‘ _In for five, then out for nine_ ,‘ as he counted. Time stopped, just the rise and fall of Adam’s chest and Adam could feel the ghost of fingers on his right side echoing his movements.

“That’s right,” Adam said to the empty room. Immediately on the heels of that statement, Adam felt a surprising sense of relief wash over him that his soulmate was still out there, somewhere in the dark. He gave a shuddering exhale, letting out tension he didn’t know he was holding and sensed the pain coming off of the hurt man in the dark. ‘ _Watch what you’re doing!‘_  Adam berated himself.

Over and over, just breathing and counting, keeping the panic at bay, knowing the scuttering, now squeaking sounds were going after something else and that was just _fine_. Adam felt the man’s breathing get steadier before exhaustion overtook them both.

  
^^^^^^

As nervous as Adam was, he slept well, his eyes looking less haunted than they had recently. Perhaps it was the white noise of the storm blanking out any sirens and noises of the city, short circuiting any internal monologues allowing him to get a decent sleep in weeks. Perhaps it was simply his change in his attitude toward the visions. Something crystallized for him last night, stabilized him out there in the snow storm and then later in the darkness.

He looked outside and found it was still snowing which was unusual. Adam turned on the local news and found the clipper was turning into a nor’easter. The newscaster was asking people to stay indoors while the city struggled to keep the streets clear. Adam turned off the news preferring to listen to the weather outside. Judging by the howling of the wind, any travel would prove to be a challenge. Knowing he wasn’t going anywhere, Adam bustled around the kitchen, getting his breakfast as the noise of the storm screeched outside.

Soon enough, breakfast finished and dishes washed, Adam went into the living room, grabbing a comforter from his bedroom while he settled in his favorite chair and dialed Harlan’s number.  
Tucked in and comfortable, Adam listened to the phone ring.

“Good morning, Adam.”

“Good morning, Harlan.” He listened to his friend slurp his coffee, listening to him blowing on it beforehand, the usual routines grounding him. Adam sighed in relief.

“Did you call me up to talk about the weather?”

“No, Harlan. Even though I went out in it last night. That’s not why I called. Something happened last night in the storm.”

Adam stopped and bit his lip, his cheeks flushing as he remembered. ‘ _I can’t tell him about what happened later. It’s too personal_.‘

“Something bad or something good?”

Ignoring the question, “I SAW him Harlan. I saw my soulmate!”

“Was this like before Adam? Was he at the side or in front?”

“In front Harlan! And he’s hurt! And I felt it like it was me, like I was stabbed. I don’t know why it’s different or what it means! Please Harlan!” Adam was panting and rocking by now, trying to calm himself now, caught up in reliving the vision from last night.

“Shhh, Adam. This is what I was trying to explain to you in the park before. Go ahead and stim if you need to but just concentrate on what I’m going to tell you.”

Adam breathed out, his one hand rubbing up and down his leg. “Ok.”

“So you saw him in front of you, was he outside in the snow or inside someplace? Did you see where he was?”

“I saw all of him, his face and everything. It wasn’t snowing so it was inside, somewhere dark with a light shining on him. He was in and out of the light. Then I saw a man with a knife coming toward him. But he didn’t move, didn’t even notice anything, just stood there. I yelled at him to move and he did, right after that. But he got cut. He fell down and reached for me. I felt it Harlan! I had to check that I wasn’t hurt. It hurt to breathe. All I could think about was getting home.”

This all came out in a breathless rush, Adam’s free hand fluttering, shaking in the air, trying to release the pent up emotion and tension.

“Adam, you saw him that way because he was someplace close in proximity to you last night. He’s someplace in Queens. Did it occur to you that the reason he didn’t move or react is because he saw you at the same time? I expect that the visions are coming closer together for the two of you, almost simultaneously. He was probably as startled by you as you were by him. I think you saved his life, Adam. Remember you told me you yelled at him to move? I think he heard you somehow. Adam, don’t take this the wrong way. I have to ask. Do you think he’s dead?”

“No, Harlan, he’s not. I’m sure of it.”

“You sound different this morning, Adam. Do you feel different now that you’ve seen him?”

“Yes, I do, Harlan. All I want to do is find him.”

“Then you are going to have to keep a notebook and be a bit of a detective. Write down as much as you can about the time you have the visions, what you can see. Any descriptions, street signs, any clues. If he’s as hurt as you say, he’s going to be focused on staying alive. Describe who he speaks to. Where he is being held, the room or house he’s in. Now here’s the important part. For god’s sake, Adam, be careful. Don’t go looking for these accomplices of his. You don’t know who is involved or why he got hurt. I just checked the news feeds and there is no mention of any gang related activity in Queens last night. That doesn’t tell me anything other than he’s not in a regular hospital, not being held by the police. He’s gone to ground. His friends are keeping him safe. He’s got to be important enough to have dangerous enemies or they wouldn’t keep him alive. Promise me you won’t do anything stupid. Remember what I told you in the park. There is a reason why the two of you are soulmates.”

Adam had stopped stimming by the time Harlan reached the end of his half of the conversation.

  
“That’s a good idea. I will keep a notebook. Thank you for speaking with me, Harlan. I feel better.”

“You’re welcome, Adam. Was there anything else? I’m going to go have some more coffee I think.”

Adam replied, telling his friend he would call on their regular time on the weekend, signing off on the phone and going to look for a notebook, comforter dragging along behind him down the hallway.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Darko made a resolution. ‘ _Next time, he picked a fucking safe house, it was going to be located on the motherfucking **first** floor.’_

Watching the man ahead of him, Darko actually chuckled, ‘ _There is something to be said for this soulmate shit after all. With the weight Nigel’s lost, it’s actually easier to move his godforsaken ass up to safety_.‘

Darko, Jeff and Mutt each took turns carrying a mostly comatose Nigel up five—fucking count them—five motherfucking flights to the garret on the topmost floor. It couldn’t even really be counted as a floor - just one room accessible by a narrow staircase.

Panting and puffing, Darko and Jeff pulled the mattress out from the corner, moving it in the middle of the room, positioning it while Mutt held Nigel in his arms. Once the mattress was in place, he laid Nigel carefully upon it. Darko went back down the staircase to the floor below. The staircase was only accessible through the closet of the single bedroom of the flat below, another safety measure. He'd have to get someone in here to stay as lookout, running through a list of potential bodyguards in his head. Grabbing a couple of sheets, a blanket and a pillow, he heads back up the stairs.

Sending Mutt down for candles, as the garret had no electricity, Darko picked up Nigel while Jeff made up the megere bed. Laying his friend down and covering him with the blanket, he left it to Jeff while Darko wandered over to the row of skylights. The grey sky meant it would be dark soon in the garret. Speed was of the essence. Darko made phone calls in rapid succession, urgent call for medical request, securing the bodyguard and telling him to bring last minute essentials.

Mutt came back upstairs with a oversized jug of water and a carrier bag containing a mug, bowl, spoon along with the candles and matches. Leaving the men to organize everything and his calls made, Darko went over to sit by Nigel, holding his hand and speaking softly to him in Romanian, mostly calling him a no-good, motherfucking dumbass who didn’t have the decency to move his fucking fat ass out of the way quick enough.

“You should know by now, Nigel, love will kill you. I’m getting too old for this shit,” Darko sighed and then laughed, “You’re fucking lucky you owe me fucking poker money. That’s the only reason, I saved your fucking ass.”

Hearing footsteps, Darko looked up and saw the doctor arriving along with the bodyguard. Darko spoke rapid Romanian. From then on, it would be the only language spoken in the safe house. It was a security measure of sorts, giving the bodyguard ample notice if he heard English, he knew safety was compromised.

That’s **if** Nigel makes it that is. He’s such a disagreeable fucker though, even the Devil doesn’t want him while Heaven won’t take him so Darko was confident that he will pull through.

With Nigel in good hands, he left to go downstairs and finish making arrangements, which now involved finding out who sold them out to Mr. Wong and the Tongs.

A couple of hours later, the doctor came down the narrow staircase, blood evident on his shirt and pants. He was ashen and asked Darko for bottled water in Romanian. Drinking most of it in frantic gulps, he used what was left in the bottle to clean his face and hands. Feeling a bit better, he assured Darko that Nigel would survive if he didn't succumb to an infection. Darko asked him when Nigel would be completely out of harm’s way. The older physician found this amusing and told him after a week, the most dangerous period should be over with. Darko offered to pay him three times over their agreed price if the doctor would stay in the apartment and care for Nigel for a week. Of course Darko strongly implied that agreement was the only reasonable response to his suggestion.

Negotiations over and folding a list of medical supplies, Darko smiled a barracuda smile as he took Mutt and Jeff with him leaving the lookout and the physician to make themselves as comfortable as they were able. Of course the extra expense for the physician would be coming out of Mr. Wong’s profits and probably his skin, if Darko had any say in the matter.

^^^^^^^  
  
Even though Nigel was seriously hurt, the visions continued, spilling over into his dreams and he watched Adam hungrily, finding it gave him something to focus on other than his pain and anger. He found it difficult to tell where the dreams ended and the visions began, but that was just fine with him.

During the first week, the bodyguard and physician attempted to engage Nigel in conversation. He ignored the bodyguard completely and only responded to the physician for the most rudimentary medical conversations. He was silent, preferring to watch Adam, wishing he could call up the visions at will, taking comfort in the repeated routines. Ordinary life had never seemed so sweet.

Later, when it was just the bodyguard and him, on the first day alone together, Nigel called out weakly from the top of the staircase. Moments later the younger man wandered upstairs completely puzzled. Nigel thanked him and asked him to move the mattress under the sky lights and told him all he needs are candles, matches and bottles of water which can be left to the side of the staircase. He didn’t want to be disturbed.

The guard started to protest, to say Nigel must allow him to bring him food. The look of dismissal Nigel gave him was chilling, as cold as the bitter wind howling around outside the garret. He took the hint and went back downstairs leaving Nigel alone.

That first evening, all Nigel did was lay down on the mattress and look at the darkening sky through the skylights. The wind had blown all the snow off of the slanted rafters. He dozed and thought he heard the water, matches and candles being left but he didn’t even turn his head to look. It’s unimportant anyway. He dozed again, pain flaring when he moved, not even conscious of whether he was moaning in pain or not. (He was.)

Much later, he could see the winter moon as it tracked across the sky and understood that what he was seeing was from Adam’s vantage point. He’d never seen the moon so clear, the stars, constellations so close. He even got a taste of Adam’s fascination, his joy and wonder at the spectacle. It warmed him and he almost felt that he doesn’t need the blanket. Nigel struggled to stay awake, unwilling to leave Adam but his body succumbed to sleep all the same.

Upon waking, Nigel found that the bucket with candles, matches, water and antibiotics had been left by his bedside. Hearing steps on the staircase and a grumbled “Bună dimineața soare,” Darko appeared at the top of the steps.

Nigel smiled at his childhood friend. “Fuck you too Darko.”

Darko helped Nigel to stand. “You know, we can get a cot up here. I know you didn’t plan on any medical rescue but this is hell on my back. At least agree to a fucking cot.”

Nigel turned and saw Darko looking at the ugly, hastily stitched wound in his side. “Don’t tell me you want to kiss it better?”

“Fuck you. I'd sooner kiss your ass, ugly as it is. By all that’s holy though, Nigel, I’ve never seen worse. You are lucky heaven and hell don’t want your sorry ass.”

Nigel barked a laugh and groaned as his abdomen spasmed. “Just give me some fucking coffee, Darko, and tell me you found the one who sold us out.”

Darko hollered down the staircase, asking for coffee to be brought up, then brought him up to speed on developments, telling him word on the street was that Mr. Wong would try to kill him again. It was inevitable.

“Darko, I’m too fucking old for this shit. When this is fucking over, I’m out. Here, help me with this.” Nigel gestured to a small locked glass window in the corner of the rafter which led outside to the roof.

“Fuck me sideways, Nigel! You aren’t going to use this are you?” asked Darko.

“I hope I won’t have to but I need to see what I’m up against if Mr. Wong gives me no options.” Darko got the window open and both men shivered as the cold air rushed in. “Help me onto the roof, Darko. There is no way I’m going out this way if I don’t know what’s out here. Seconds count.”

“And that’s why you’ve lasted this long, my brother. Nothing gets past you. Get your skinny ass out there,” as Nigel shimmied out the window. Darko followed after him, swearing extravagantly.

The bodyguard arrived with the coffee and watched the two of them through the skylight as they made their way across the edge, then suddenly disappeared from view. Just as quickly, the men reversed their path and dropped back down into the room through the window.

“I need this window to be fixed so I can get it open one-handed if need be. Bring a sturdy chair up here. Put it right underneath.”

“You know it will be a beacon telling where you went, even if you kick it over.”

“If it wasn’t for the motherfucking stitches, I wouldn’t have to fucking do it. What would you have me do? Pull something open or get out the damn window in one piece? If they make it up here, they will know where I fucking went anyway.”

Nigel motioned to the bodyguard “You, shut the damn window and leave us. Go run the perimeter and report to Darko when he comes down.”

Handing both men coffee, he slipped silently down the staircase. “Pay him double Darko. I’ve been a right bastard this past week. Now, let’s plan this then.”

“The fuck if I’m sitting on the fucking floor next to you, you fucking stink. Take the mattress. Drink your coffee. I’ll bring the chair up and some fucking water and soap. If I were you, I would pour your dregs out the window there. With any luck, one of them will slip and fall back through the skylight and cut his fucking throat. I’d pay money to see that.”

When Darko came back up, a nearly naked Nigel was back on the mattress, entranced in another vision. ‘ _Fuck! He’s not eating anything,’_ as he counted the man’s ribs. ‘ _And when was the last time I saw him this bad? Decades ago, much much younger, both of us. Living on the streets_.’

Darko knew that Nigel was trying to leave as little evidence of multiple people living in the derelict building as possible, not wanting to go downstairs in case of being observed, of being heard by outside spies. As careful as they were, eventually even the garbage would get combed through for clues once the safe house was found.

Leaving the supplies, Darko went back downstairs to leave new instructions, wondering if he would see Nigel again. He wouldn’t be back to the safe house again. ‘ _Too dangerous_ ,’ he thought.

^^^^^^^^^^

For the past month, Adam saw Nigel frequently. Not face to face like it was that one time in the snow, but as if he were looking out through Nigel’s eyes again, this time in front. There was no distortion, no blurriness. And really nothing to see, a rundown room, a rickety staircase, no furniture to speak of, no electricity. But it had a row of skylights.

One of the first times Adam had a vision after Nigel was moved to the safehouse, he was snug in bed. Suddenly, he watched the winter constellations wheel across the sky, watching through a set of skylights, listening to the howling wind, shivering in a blanket, lying on a mattress on the floor. The room in complete darkness except for what light came in through the skylights. Adam could feel his skin pull on his left side as he exhaled, hands running over an emaciated torso, ribs prominent, nothing sexual in the movement, just grounding himself, looking at the universe and declaring through that tiny motion that he existed too.

Adam felt a newfound sense of wonder, of curiosity. And that’s when Adam began to describe out loud what Nigel was seeing through his windows. He couldn’t see any cityscape - just the sky. He couldn’t tell if Nigel could hear him or not but he was sure that the other man felt more at peace when he spoke.

Over time this vision became a ritual, repeated itself at nearly the same time every night. The other visions were of Nigel exercising or pacing, drinking water, sometimes coffee, rarely eating. Not much of a life at all, but Adam loved it all the same. Adam was glad the violence had stopped. One day he watched Nigel draw a small flower the likes of which he had never seen before, on a small section of plaster using a charcoal pencil and some of his own blood to provide color and shading. Adam smiled and knew it was meant for him.

^^^^^^^^^

It had started off a day like any other, biting cold, grey, snow flurries. Nigel knew the light would fade quickly. He sighed and wondered how Darko was faring outside. He was sipping his afternoon coffee. Suddenly he heard footsteps, gunshots, a smattering of shouted English curse words.

Nigel set the cup aside and rushed for the corner. He opened the exit window, shimmied through onto the roof, cursing inwardly at the cold, reached back down into the room, grabbed the chair and with a one-hand grab, tossed it back into the room. He closed the window, avoided the snow-covered ice patch and made his way to the roof edge toward the exterior fire escape.

Hearing a noise behind him, he glanced behind and saw the window open, a man push through, slip on the snow-covered ice patch, saw him pinwheel his arms, dropping his gun which fell through the skylight, the man overbalancing and following the gun through the glass.

‘ _One down. I hope I get to tell Darko. He’ll love it. Five-fucking stories,’_ he thought as he went over the parapet edge of the roof, grasping the fire escape rails as he lept over. The minute he was on the side of the building, a crosswind came whipping down between the buildings. ‘ _Fuck me! If I hadn’t been holding on, I would be sailing_.’

With that, God took pity on him, bringing snow showers on an ominous sky, whipping the wind ever higher. ‘ _What the fuck did I ever do to you, you bastard?’_ came Nigel’s murderous thought. Constant shivers now, numb hands hardly able to feel where the handrails were, Nigel kept descending. He could feel the fire escape shake from the wind and the added weight of his pursuers. He glanced up, ‘ _Two more fuckers then_.‘

At the next landing, with his feet threatening to slide out beneath him at every step as he descended, Nigel lifted his knees up to his waist and slid down holding both handrails. As if in retaliation, a wicked wind shook the metallic structure threatening to tear it from the building, metal screaming and shuddering in response. Nigel heard a curse from above and heard something skid, then a thud, with a drawn-out scream as a body went sailing over the waist-high railing, body falling past him so close Nigel could have reached out a hand to touch him.

Ignoring the wet sound as the body met the pavement, Nigel continued his descent as fast as he dared. Full on dark now, Nigel knew while the other pursuer had a gun he wouldn’t waste bullets until Nigel was on the ground and running.

Nigel neared the third landing, and as if the thug could read his thoughts, he launched himself after Nigel, tangling his legs, knocking Nigel down to the flat surface, trying to kick him off the fire escape. Nigel wrapped his numb arms around the main support and hung on while he twisted and evaded the other. His pursuer cursed and pulled out his gun. Anticipating this, Nigel let go and grabbed the other’s wrist with one hand and the barrel of the gun with the other, slamming the man’s hand into the structure. The man’s hands were cold and wet. He lost his grip on the gun and Nigel with a determined shove, sent it sailing off into the darkness below.

Just for good measure, Nigel got to his feet and savagely kicked the man in the groin, listening to his scream.

“If I had more time, I would castrate you with my bare hands,” Nigel hissed as he resumed his flight.

Knowing he had bought himself some time, Nigel made it down to another landing and around the corner before the man got his legs under him and pursued.

Shivering violently, Nigel missed his footing and fell down the steps to the last landing. His knee hit the landing first, sliding along the surface, Nigel put a hand out to break his fall. Even that slipped and slid due to the slickness of the metal. Nigel’s forward momentum caused his torso to smack violently into the landing. Breathless and aching, unable to swear, he lost precious minutes until he could get his breath back.

His pursuer saw Nigel prostrate and leapt off the stairs intending to land on top of him and grab his neck, snapping it in the process. Nigel saw movement in the corner of his eye and rolled off the landing onto the first step.

He reached down to undo the metal hinge, intending to hang on and ride the descending section of the fire escape into the street. He watched as the lower portion unhooked, swung out and down. Nigel jumped on the lower portion of the ladder, hoping his body weight would pull the lower section down quickly.

Engrossed with his escape, Nigel did not see his pursuer land on the slippery landing, his legs shooting out from under him with his momentum. One leg slipped in between the empty space between one step and the next and twisted. The sound of the bone breaking was loud but his shriek was louder. He fell forward, his upper body landing awkwardly in between the supports of unhinged ladder as it descended, neatly decapitating him as Nigel reached street level.

Nigel felt the thud in his bones as the fire escape shook when the man landed badly, then heard the bone break and the resulting scream. Now, reaching the street, there was silence.

Puzzled, Nigel felt something warm splash down on him. ‘ _Was the fucker pissing on him? Because if he was…’_

Looking upward in the snow storm, he realized what he was seeing, “Blood, fucking blood,” he murmured.

Too exhausted and cold to even look for the gun, bruised and bloody, Nigel limped down the alleyway toward the street, heading for the only landmark he knew in the area as the snow storm continued.

^^^^^^^

Adam had been home all day with a headache and nausea. He thought the cause was the barometric pressure dropping ahead of another expected winter storm later on that afternoon. He had called in sick to work hours ago and was sitting in his living room unable to concentrate on anything. He wasn’t frequently sick and was feeling restless, thinking he should be doing something.

He lain on the couch, under his favorite comforter, hoping he felt better soon. The vision came roaring out of nowhere, like an ocean wave threatening to take him out to sea. It started innocuously enough. Adam watched Nigel’s hands wrapping around the mug, enjoying its warmth. Suddenly, Nigel jumped up, coffee forgotten, rushing to the window which Adam hadn’t really noticed before, pushing it open, scrambling up on the chair, climbing out the window, reaching back in toss the chair away, pulling the window closed.

For the first time, Nigel was outside and Adam recognized part of the skyline. Then his attention was focused on his shaky footing, the snowstorm and he was over the parapet and starting down the fire escape.

Adam saw everything, the man falling through the skylight, the two pursuers after Nigel, the man falling to his death, everything right up until he saw him limp down the alleyway and turn the corner. While he was caught up in the vision, he could feel what Nigel felt, the cold, his numbness, his pain in his side, the pain in his chest, his knees, and his anger washing over everything.

When the vision ended, it was full dark in the apartment. Adam jumped up and rushed to get his winter things. He knew exactly where he had to go, thankful to be doing something at last.

As he locked up and rushed outside, he called Harlan to leave him an urgent message.

^^^^^^^^

Nigel stumbled, falling to the icy sidewalk as the storm shrieked around him,‘ _Still not as loud as when Gabi yelled at me when she broke my fucking heart_ ,’ came the instantaneous thought as Nigel fell for the sixth time in two blocks.

‘ _I can’t feel my fucking fingers or my feet. Gonna break something if I’m not careful._ ’

Nigel’s teeth chattered violently and he clutched at his jaw to try and make it stop, having visions that his teeth would shatter either from the cold or the violence of his reflexes. _’Nearly fucking bit my finger off there_ ,’ as his deadened fingers slipped and slid over his icy skin. He managed to grab on to the brick wall next to him and haul himself up. Thrusting his hands under opposite armpits in an attempt to keep warm, he moved forward.

By now he had given up paying attention to anything but what was right in front of him. If Mr. Wong had materialized and walked next to Nigel, he would have ignored him. _’If I can get there, I’ll be safe_.’ It had become his mantra and he murmured it as he continued to stumble and slip in the snow, each step bringing him closer to his goal.

Seeing it ahead, he shambled across the street, oblivious to traffic and pedestrians alike. He reached its locked doors, profoundly grateful as he collapsed, shivering violently, to the pavement. He was sure it would be soon.

^^^^^^

Adam caught the bus just in time, just before it pulled away from the curb. Because of the storm, it was mostly empty with few riders. He checked with the driver, pleased to find out he only had a few stops to go. He thanked the driver as he disembarked, stepping into the snow storm.

As soon as he stepped to the pavement, he looked to the right and there it was. He crossed the road and saw a shape slumped on the pavement. He rushed towards it, recognizing those hands again.

The man was covered with blood and was shivering badly. Crouching down, Adam reached out and touched his bloody hair, coaxing his head back so he could see his face. It was more emaciated than before, each plane and angle in stark relief.

The man opened his eyes, looking at his savior and purred “Hello, gorgeous. Come here often?” He stuttered badly with the cold on the second sentence but smiled sweetly looking up at Adam from under bloody, silver-streaked, ash-blonde hair, his hazel eyes intoxicating at close range.

Adam flushed, speechless, his head nodding yes, yes he did. He helped the man to his feet.

“I’m Adam, not gorgeous. Let’s go home.” as he pulled off his hat and scarf, covering the man’s head and wrapping the scarf around his lower face, neck and even part of his clavicle. He gave the man his mittens also. He checked the time. They had just enough time to make it to the bus stop before the return bus arrived to take them home.

Mindful of the blood and how Nigel was swaying, Adam shrugged off his coat before they headed back to the bus stop, reached around and wrapping it around Nigel, coaxing him to hurry.

Once on the bus, with his arms around the shivering man, a flurry of “what if’s” circled around in his brain. Adam chose one and pushed the others away to deal with later. He couldn’t afford to panic. ’ _He really needs me.’_

He planned to have lots of discussions with the Romanian who, while he recovered, looked like he was going to be his roommate for a while. _’Not tonight for sure. Let’s see what the doctor says. He’s going to need one.’_

^^^^^^

Once home and safely indoors, Adam unwrapped Nigel out of his coat, hat, scarf and mittens as if he was a precious Christmas present. He sat Nigel in his favorite chair while he turned up the heat. He grabbed sweatpants and a t-shirt placing them in the bathroom. Hurrying back to the living room, he found Nigel huddled in the chair, shivering violently and speaking in a foreign language.

“What’s your name?” as Adam bent down and gently laid his hand on the man’s shoulder, looking at his twitching fingers.

“Nigel,” his chattering stretching it out into six syllables.

“Do you mind if you take a shower first, Nigel?”

“I don’t mind but I don’t think I can stand, gorgeous. Do you want to hold me up so I don’t fall?”

Adam nodded and carefully helped Nigel up and led him down the hallway to the bathroom.

“Do you want to take your clothes off, Nigel?”

“Well, Adam, ordinarily I would, but my hands are shaking quite badly. How about if I hold myself up by the sink and you take off my clothes?”

Adam could follow the logic in that, pleased that everything was so rational and commonsense. Not giving Nigel much time to object, he started with his shirt buttons, stripping the bloody wet shirt off the shivering man. Tossing it aside, Adam moved on to Nigel’s shoes, socks, pants and boxers, moving quickly and efficiently.

Nigel watched all this with a bemused smile on his face. “I don’t think I’ve ever been stripped so efficiently, darling. That must be some sort of a fucking record.”  
  
“Can we talk later? I’ve got to help you shower and get dressed before my routine gets more disrupted,” Adam said while he discarded his clothes just as quickly.

Nigel kept his thoughts to himself, suddenly feeling dizzy and lowering his head to his hands cupping his head in them, murmuring in Romanian to himself. Adam didn’t hear him, busy adjusting the temperature of the water and only turning back to Nigel when it was pleasantly warm.

“Nigel? Do you need me to call a doctor?” Adam looked at the bloody, shivering, emaciated man in front of him suddenly frightened.

  
“After,” croaked Nigel.

“Ok. I’m going to help you into the shower now,” Adam said just before his fingers connected with Nigel’s bare skin. He tried not to get distracted by all of Nigel’s injuries or his nakedness.

“Hold on to me, Nigel. I don’t want you to fall,” as Nigel overbalanced stepping high into the bathtub.

Nigel slipped his freezing arms around Adam’s shoulders and whispered “You are so gorgeous, so fucking beautiful. How are you real?” Adam shivered both from the contact with the cold skin but also from the praise.

“You are holding me. I am very real,” as he guided the battered man into the shower, right under the warm spray, joining him quickly and grabbing the soap. Adam shifted to Nigel’s left side as Nigel took the soap from him, raising his left arm to shield his head from the spray and began to carefully clean his arm, unintentionally allowing Adam to get a good view of the near-fatal wound underneath for the first time.

Adam never seen anything as brutal, as ugly, nothing subtle about it. Add to that that it seemed to be oozing and Nigel’s shaking and weakness took on a whole unhealthy new meaning for Adam.

He panicked, shouting “NIGEL!” as Adam pulled the man out from under the rushing water. It one last thing too many for the exhausted Romanian and he stumbled against the tiled wall, eyes rolling back in his head as he sank to the floor of the bathtub, slumping against Adam, his torso away from the spray of water.

Adam was well and truly crying now.

“Nigel, oh, no, nonononono!”

There was no response, other from breathing from the Romanian, he cradled Nigel in one arm as he repeatedly pounded his forehead with the other. His thoughts whirled around each other like a pack of dogs after a tasty milk bone treat.

‘ _I have to call Harlan! I can’t call Harlan! I can’t leave him! Where’s my phone! What am I going to do? Why didn’t I just take him to a hospital? Why did I think I can save him? What am I going to do?’_

After an exceptionally hard slap which made him see stars, Adam had one thought,‘ _STOP THIS_!’

Next, just as he did on the bus ride over, he isolated one thought,‘ _He. Needs. You.’_

Adam thought about trying to stand, carrying Nigel out of the shower and down the hallway. That didn’t bother him. What bothered him was the trail of bloody water he was going to have to clean up afterwards, dripping off of Nigel’s unconscious body. THAT was an issue.

So Adam decided as long as they were both in the shower, he would bathe Nigel and when he had him clean, he would carry the man to bed. He resolved to leave the left side of his body alone and he would start with Nigel’s bloody hair.

He reached for the shampoo with his free hand and set it down on top of Nigel’s abdomen. Adam wriggled so that he supported Nigel’s abdomen and neck with one arm and had the other free. He caught some of the spray and wet the unconscious man’s hair, not that he needed to, more out of reflex more than anything.

Clumsily at first, then infinitely tender, and oh so careful, Adam washed Nigel’s hair, face and neck, hardly daring to breathe, not wanting to hurt him any and indulging in Nigel’s unconsciousness to feel free to look at his face and all it’s interesting angles.

Once Nigel was clean, Adam sat cradling his head bent low and whispered “please wake up, please.”

As if on cue, Nigel’s eyes fluttered open. He snorted, hiccuped, pushed Adam away, rolled over and coughed up a lung as he huddled in a fetal position.

“Oooooohhhh, fuck me.”

“That’s not a good idea right now.”

Any answer Nigel would have made was drowned out in another cough. Adam shut off the water and helped the stricken man to his knees and then to his feet.

“Let’s get you dry and dressed. We can call a doctor. Do you have a friend you need to call?” as Adam held the bruised and beaten man steady. Nigel nodded and sagged, suddenly bone tired. Adam helped him out of the tub carefully and over to the closed toilet seat where he laid a towel down and guided him to sit.

“You do your front half and I’ll do the back half, please” as he handed Nigel a towel and started to dry the older man’s back carefully.

“You aren’t bossy at all,” chuckled Nigel.

Adam handed Nigel a tshirt and waited, his eyes flickering away, until he had pulled it over his head and down his torso before handing Nigel sweatpants. In spite of dressing, Nigel quickly started to shiver again.

“I’ll make dinner. You are too thin.” Adam’s fingers skated over Nigel’s prominent ribs and hip bones.

“I had other things on my mind than eating, darling. Trying to figure out where the coffee shop was that I saw nearly every day in your visions for a start.”

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

“Let’s get you comfortable,” as Adam helped Nigel to the spare bedroom and pulled extra blankets from the closet, unfolding them and nearly burying Nigel underneath. “You can use my phone. I’m going to go make dinner.”

Nigel’s voice followed him down the hall. “Oh, Adam? None of the neon yellow noodle c...for me. Do you have some soup? And what’s your address gorgeous?”

Adam heard some Romanian so he must have reached his friend. He pulled out some chicken with stars soup from way back in the cupboard and left it on the table _’I wonder if Nigel’s friends swear as much as he does?_ ’ mused Adam as he walked back to the spare room to give Nigel his address before getting dinner ready.

Adam walked into the darkened room and came around to Nigel’s side of the bed. “Nigel? Did you reach your friend?”

Nigel wriggled back to the middle of the bed, shivering as he listened to Darko on the phone. He patted the bed wordlessly. Adam sat. Nigel said, “Darko, this is my new roommate, Adam. I am borrowing his phone and he will give you his address. I will see you tomorrow evening then. Be on your best behavior.”

Adam greeted Darko and gave his address before shutting off the phone and setting it aside.

Nigel updated Adam on the rest of the phone call “Darko called a doctor who can be here tomorrow around eleven. Thank you for the phone”

Adam nodded without looking at Nigel.

“Jesus, what is it? I scare you that much or I am that ugly that you can’t even look at me?”

“It's not either of those things at all. I have Asperger's syndrome. It’s not contagious,” as Nigel went as still as a mouse.

“My brain processes information differently and I get overwhelmed easily especially with new things, new people. I do best with routines.”

“Ah, fuck Adam. I’m so-” Adam’s hand shot out and covered Nigel’s mouth tenderly.

“Shhhh. Please. I **really really** need to make dinner. Are you well enough to come into the kitchen to eat, yes or no?”

Nigel shook his head no.

“Ok. Once I eat, I will bring you a bed tray with some soup and some hot tea. Do you mind if we talk a bit before bed after you eat in here then? Yes or no?

Nigel shook his head no.

“Get some rest until then. I’ll bring a night light later and I’ll leave the door open now. Thank you, Nigel.”

Adam took his hand away and Nigel watched him wordlessly leave the room, his head reeling, a silly grin on his face as he huddled under four blankets.  
  
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Later, dishes cleared away and nightlight in place, Adam arrived in the guest bedroom with an armload of pillows.

A whispered, “are you awake?,” as pillows were distributed on the bed.

A muffled answer in response.

An intrigued Nigel watched as Adam quickly and just as efficiently as earlier in the evening, stripped completely nude before climbing into bed.

Adam scooted closer to Nigel. “Are you cold?”

“Not as much now, gorgeous. Thank you for rescuing me. I should have said it before. Didn’t seem like there was any appropriate time earlier. Do you always go to bed in the buff?”

“No. You seemed like you were suffering from hypothermia. I read up on it after dinner while I was waiting for the water to boil for your tea.”

Nigel huffed in wonder. “Wow. You’re really genius smart aren’t you? The routine thing is really big for you isn’t it?”

“Yes.” A moment of silence, of decision. “Nigel? Can we cuddle?”

Adam whispers against Nigel’s collarbone, his breath like a butterfly’s wing, “No sex. Just cuddle?”

“Of course, gorgeous. Put your hands here. You aren’t going to hurt me. Do you want me to rub your back? Your neck?”

A muffled “um, Hm” answer.

“Nigel?”

A beat.

“I had a panic attack in the tub earlier.”

“I was wondering when you were going to bring that up, Adam.”

“I’m sor-’ This time it was Nigel’s fingers which came up and lightly sshh’ed him.

“Did you mean for it to happen? Was I seriously hurt? Were you?”

Adam shook his head ‘no’ at all the questions.

“Then don’t apologize. Having a roommate is a new thing for me too you know.”

“Nigel, I don’t do well with sarcasm or innuendo.”

“I’m not being any of those things.”

“I know, Nigel. I’m just telling you.”

“Oh. Ok. Can we go to sleep? Except for meeting you, I’ve had a fucking shit storm of a day.”

“Yes. And you’re wrong earlier. You aren’t ugly at all.”

^^^^^^^^^^

The next morning, it happened.

‘ _The first disagreement. No. Wrong choice of words. The first scheduling issue,’_ thought Nigel

“I need to have a shower right away, Nigel. I’m all sweaty and disgusting.”

The second adjective was not the one that was currently going through Nigel’s mind at the moment as he looked at his roommate’s pert behind.

“And what I have been trying to tell you for the past twenty minutes is that I am not disagreeing with you Adam. I am simply asking you to look at the bigger picture here. What I propose is that in the interest of

one) saving time    
two) saving water  
three) sticking to the timetable  
four) I don’t know if I can really stand up without falling over and knocking myself unconscious

So I propose that we shower together this morning.”

“Oh! Ok. Let’s get started then.”

Adam grabbed his new roommate’s hand and all but hauled him out of bed. Nigel let Adam lead the way as he watched the younger man’s ass jiggle enticingly down the hallway.  
  
Once inside the small bathroom, it was a matter of moments, to get Nigel naked again, leaving him pleasantly befuddled hanging into the sink while Adam ran the water.

He helped Nigel high step over the side of the tub and gingerly shuffle into the warm spray, holding his arm outstretched for Nigel to grasp onto for balance. Nigel wet himself and asked Adam to soap his back, hissing in pain as he rubbed a bit too hard in his anxiousness at the delay in his routine.

“Darling, while I don’t mind a bit of roughness every once in awhile, could you be a bit more gentle? Here let me show you.” Nigel cooed as he exchanged places with Adam under the water.

Nigel placed his chin on Adam’s shoulder looking downwards pleased to see the first sensual vision he remembered from the overseas trip.

“Brace yourself on the wall gorgeous and just relax. I’ll hold you, like this,” as his left arm came up and across Adam’s chest.

He made sure it occasionally brushed Adam’s nipples as it rubbed across the younger man’s chest, listening to the change in his breathing every time it happened.

Generously slathering up his other hand, Nigel let his soapy hand glide over Adam’s shoulders, ribs and abdomen, remembering the sensation he felt on the plane.

Lower and lower, his hand drifted while he murmured in Adam’s ear “You like my hands on you, don’t you?” Adam keened and arched his back, suddenly overstimulated.

“Too much?”

“Ah,ah, a bit,” Adam stuttered.

Nigel changed his grip and pressed closer so he was blanketing the younger man’s back.

“Better?”

“Much!”

“Can I touch you now, Adam?”

Adam’s head had fallen forward as if it was too heavy for him to hold it up any longer. Nigel had to ease forward and press himself against Adam to hear his murmured command.

“Touch me now.”

Nigel wasted no time in reaching Adam’s groin, sliding and slipping over his flesh, causing Adam to arch his back and moan, while Nigel murmured obscenities both in Romanian and English in his ear. His lips and tongue were busy licking, nipping and sucking on Adam’s shoulder, neck and earlobe, driving the younger man into a frenzy.

“You like this, don’t you gorgeous? Hmmm?”

Adam didn’t know where to turn to evade the onslaught, but truthfully he didn’t want it to stop. It was so much better than anything he had managed on his own before. He wasn’t sure about everything that was being said to him as the multilingual language lesson continued but he didn’t care, wanted to hear more of it. The man’s accent was driving him wild and to his surprise, he found there was a lot that he liked.

“You’ve got a fucking pretty cock. Mi se potrivește perfect în mână.”

Nigel breathed into Adam’s mouth, the younger man’s head against his shoulder, his blue portion of his eyes barely visible as his pupil dilated. Adam could only pant in reply as Nigel’s hand cupped his ball sack, caressing it gently before moving back to his reddened cock.

“Next time, it will be my mouth on you, darling. And after that, something more...substantial,” as he brushed against Adam’s backside.

“How….How...ooohhh, Nigel, ah, oh, yes! Don’t stop!”

“I don’t intend to, gorgeous. Cum for me.”

Shaking and overcome, Adam slumped against Nigel. He whispered, “Nigel, how did you know?”

“How did I know what, Adam? That you like it like this?”

“Yes! How can you know what I like so well?”

“That’s easy. Because I’ve seen you, gorgeous.”

“You mean…?”

“Yes, exactly that.”

Adam flushed in embarrassment.

“Do you think you can return the favor sometime, Adam?” Nigel said as he handed back the soap. “Not until I heal up of course. Just do my back for me, gently,” as he changed places under the water. Adam finished sluicing water down the older man’s back noticing all of Nigel’s prominent vertebrae, slipping his arms around his waist carefully when he finished.

Adam flushed, “I would like to do this again. I think it would be easy to be sexually aroused with you. I liked when you said those things to me and when you touched me. Thank you for being so gentle with me.” He placed a soft kiss to Nigel’s right hand, smelling his release on his fingers and smiled up at the older man.

“Let’s get you cleaned up proper for the doctor. Would you like some eggs this morning?”

“I’m not really hungry. Let’s see what the doctor says first.”

“Nigel? Even though I don’t know you well, I feel safe with you. I wasn't at first when the visions started. Harlan says there is a reason we are soulmates. That we both have something the other needs desperately.”

“Harlan sounds like a very wise friend. That’s a very kind thing to say Adam. I want you to feel safe with me too. Always and always.”

“Here, hold on to me. I don’t want you to fall like yesterday. So who swears more you or Darko?”

Nigel was glad he was holding on to Adam as he laughed harder than he had in weeks. “Adam Raki, I could get very used to this.”

 

                          Fin. ?

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks go to Shoegazerx for the help with the niceties of the Romanian language. 
> 
> To my always willing reader, purplesocrates, thank you for the advice and support and handholding. Oh, and for the conversation we had about mindful breathing and anxiety coping skills. A font of knowledge! Thank you! 
> 
> To Purefoysgirl for the spot on character analysis and laser precision plot point pacing suggestion. I knew it needed tweaking and a bit of polish. Thank you for helping to make it shine a bit brighter. 
> 
> Thank you to occamstireiron for the last minute grammar check. 
> 
> Thanks lastly -though not least, to my wonderful collaborator, Nonexistenz, whose artwork really made the story come alive. It was an honor working with you! 
> 
> Thank you to all the readers and artists who have taken this little story and hugged it tight. It’s been a wild ride.

**Author's Note:**

> Şi dacă... 
> 
> Şi dacă ramuri bat în geam  
> Şi se cutremur plopii,  
> E ca în minte să te am  
> Şi-ncet să te apropii.
> 
> Şi dacă stele bat în lac  
> Adâncu-i luminându-l,  
> E ca durerea mea s-o-mpac  
> Înseninându-mi gândul.
> 
> Şi dacă norii deşi se duc  
> De iese-n luciu luna,  
> E ca aminte să-mi aduc  
> De tine-ntotdeauna.
> 
> By Mihai Eminescu
> 
> And if...
> 
> And if the branches tap my pane  
> And the poplars whisper nightly,  
> It is to make me dream again  
> I hold you to me tightly.
> 
> And if the stars shine on the pond  
> And light its sombre shoal,  
> It is to quench my mind's despond  
> And flood with peace my soul.
> 
> And if the clouds their tresses part  
> And does the moon outblaze,  
> It is but to remind my heart  
> I long for you always.
> 
> English version by Corneliu M. Popescu
> 
> This work would have been immeasurably lessened without the spot-on-attention-to-detail from @messy-scandinoodle. You are a wonder and a Fannibal without compare.  
> This is a gift to katherinekrawl for her encouragement, advice, wicked sense of humor and a mutual appreciation of the wonder that is Mads Mikkelsen. Please go read her works. You won't be sorry.


End file.
